If
by greyslostwho
Summary: 'If' is a wonderful word. A number of relatively independent pieces regarding the major 'if's in the history of Maddison. Some smutty, some fluffy, some angsty.
1. If she'd let Mark try something

**IF**

'**If' is a wonderful word. A number of relatively independent pieces regarding the major 'if's in the history of Maddison. Some smutty, some fluffy, some angsty.**

**Limited spoilers for their entire story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Rated M.**

_**If she'd let Mark try something in med school**_

She was tired, and she was fed up, that night. Archer had been lighting fuses in the Montgomery household again when she'd been home for the weekend, and after promising he'd be home for dinner, the Captain hadn't turned up until the early hours of the morning, stating he'd been 'working'. She hadn't even asked what his new secretary was called, she'd been part of this story her whole life.

So, when she'd finally escaped and gotten back to her flat, she'd decided to cut her losses and put her best shoes on and go out for a drink. She didn't do it enough; she figured she wasn't doing the student thing quite right. Sometimes maybe she ought to think more about being herself, not about being a Montgomery. Because for all they talked, they weren't in such a good place, Bizzy, the Captain and even her brother. She wasn't sure being a Montgomery was all she'd been promised.

She sunk into a seat opposite the bar, flashing a smile at the barman, who raised his eyebrows almost imperceptibly – she wasn't a regular, and she didn't look quite _right _for your normal student. The jewellery on her wrist, around her neck and in her ears looked like it was worth more than he earned in a year, you couldn't deny that coat looked expensive and as for the shoes she was wearing… But he returned her dazzling smile after a few seconds of surprise, and asked what her poison was.

That night was the night Addison started drinking vodka, and from that moment on it was her vice.

A pair of men turned up minutes later, and everything shifted.

She was only really looking at one of them, the one in front, the one with the dangerous eyes, dark and fiery, the half-smile that somehow managed to set her heart racing, and that smell… there was something slightly _spicy _about the man who was leaning on the bar next to her, offering to buy her another vodka cranberry, his eyes darting between her eyes and her neckline, but without shame, almost as if he couldn't care less what she thought.

There was another guy behind him, darker haired and smiling slightly nervously, but she didn't have time to even think about him in that moment. Breathing was getting even harder, her breaths were getting shallower by the second, and she hadn't had enough to drink (yet) so she was making polite conversation – she can't remember what about – and smiling demurely as she accepted her second drink.

And then her third, and then her fourth, and then everything started blurring.

She wasn't sure when it happened, but all of a sudden the guy with the dark, lusty eyes wasn't beside her anymore, and the slightly nervous looking silent friend was giving her a slightly nervous smile.

"Mark won't be long. He's gone out for a cigarette. He's always quick."

She still doesn't know why she did what she did next, but she found herself sliding off her bar stool, almost as if it was out of her own control, and giving Mark's dark haired friend a smile.

"I need some air." She breathed, hardly believing herself. "I won't be long."

The man with the dark eyes was stood out the back, between the dumpsters, a cigarette smoking between his fingers. He looked up when she tottered out the back door, but he didn't say anything.

That infuriated her. She was slightly drunk, she'd followed him out there – which in her book was more than enough of a hint that she wanted something to happen – she couldn't read his eyes, and he wasn't giving her anything. She gave a slightly exasperated sigh, and leant against the dumpster, about a metre away from him.

"Hey, Red. Cigarette?" he held the packet out to her, lid askew. She shook her head.

His voice, as well. She still couldn't breathe.

"You at school?" she asked, her voice sounding not quite like her own.

He gave her a mildly infuriating smile. "Third year medicine. You?"

"Second year." She threw what she hoped was an equally infuriating smile back.

"I've not seen you around here before." He whispered, stubbing out the cigarette and moving closer, until she had that smell surrounding her again. "You're a different type, though, aren't you? You seem like a different type…"

"Not tonight." She shook her head, and took a slightly staggering step towards him. "Not tonight."

She still isn't sure which one of them gave the first push, which one of them leant all the way in at the last moment, but all of a sudden there were hot lips on hers and she was drowning. And then his hands were everywhere and he was pushing her back up against the wall, between the dumpsters, mouth suddenly travelling down her throat, his sinful tongue caressing her skin.

And there were fingers everywhere and before she knew it she wasn't wearing all her items of clothing anymore and her own hands were finding their way to his belt buckle, his obvious arousal suddenly in her hands, and he was choking against her collarbone. It gave her a great deal of satisfaction; from the sound of his choking breaths she was doing to him something somewhat like what he was doing to her.

His fingers were sliding between her legs, then; her lace knickers were long gone; they were suddenly slipping between her wet folds, and she was moaning, her head making gentle contact with the brick wall behind her.

She was pinned to the back wall of a bar, in the middle of the night, one of her legs around his hips, her hands down the front of his trousers.

God, Bizzy would be horrified.

And then he was lifting her right up, his other hand leaving her breast, his mouth finding its way back to hers again, however messily it travelled up her throat.

Before she could even think, he was at her entrance, and inside her, sending a spark through her entire body that threatened to never let her be quite the same person ever again. She kept letting her mouth dance against his as they started moving in rhythm, rocking against each other, gently at first, before the pressure started building, it was all suddenly more demanding, faster, and _she_ _couldn't even think _anymore, she was so close.

She came seconds before he did, clamping her teeth down on his bottom lip, shocking him and pushing him over the edge immediately afterwards. She trailed her lips down and across his throat as he caught his breath, and he brought his lips to hers again as he slid out of her, unhooking his hands carefully from her hair. She mussed it down a little, but she knew there was no way she was going to look presentable, heading back through the bar, so she gave him a small, slightly nervous smile and he raised one eyebrow.

"Addison, right?" he asked, and it still sounded _dark, _it still got her heart going.

She nodded, stepping her right leg back into her underwear, an unavoidable blush creeping across her cheeks.

"You wanna come back to my place?"

And because she was being reckless that evening, she'd just done something that people like her absolutely _did not _do, and because his eyes and his voice and his smell were still adding an increasing warmth below her belly, she said yes.

That was the start of everything.

* * *

_As it was, she was tired, and she was fed up, but she was a Montgomery. She wasn't ever going to be one of those people who had what was probably going to be only a one-night stand out the back by the dumpsters, so she'd looked at Mark with ice in her eyes, and shot him down until he'd moved onto the blonde a few seats along the bar, with numerous empty glasses in front of her and tears in her eyes. (The blonde would later turn out to be Savvy, and her hideous entanglement with Mark by the dumpsters on the night of a messy break up would never be spoken of.) She smiled and drank a few small glasses of white wine, before stopping because she knew her limit, and she wasn't going to embarrass herself, despite how problematic her family was proving to be behind closed doors._

_As she turned to leave, the nice looking dark haired guy who'd been quietly hovering behind the man with the dark, dangerous eyes had given her a little smile, and spoken._

"_Miss Montgomery?"_

_He remembered her name. _

"_Addison, please. Sorry, I don't think you told me yours."_

"_Derek."_

_She shook his hand, smiling. This was far more how she did it, this was far more sophisticated and classy._

"_I couldn't… would it be alright with you if I gave you a call? Another time? We could go out for dinner or something?"_

_As she smiled at how nervous he looked, nodded enthusiastically and jotted down the phone number of her flat on a napkin, she thought about how much Bizzy would like him, the Captain would approve._

_She married him, a few years later. It lasted eleven years._

**Hope you enjoyed! There will be a number of other pieces in this sequence, but they're all stand-alone pieces, as they're all answers to different 'if's, like this one. Also, I'm supposedly revising and passing my second year finals, so be prepared for the updates to be sporadic.**

**I'd love a review, however short. I'm very scared the Maddison section of the Greys fandom is dying, and I want you all to prove otherwise! And constructive criticism is always welcome.**


	2. If she'd said no at the front door

**IF**

'**If' is a wonderful word. A number of relatively independent pieces regarding the major 'if's in the history of Maddison. Some smutty, some fluffy, some angsty.**

**Limited spoilers for their entire story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

_**If she'd said no at the front door of the brownstone in a failing marriage**_

**Just a quick note – every piece is a standalone, so every 'if' is in the canon timeline until the scene starts. So every chapter is following the italics at the bottom of the previous chapter – what really happened in Shondaland. Hope that makes sense.**

45 minutes after he'd said he would be there, her doorbell rang. Wiping the tears on her cheeks viciously, checking herself in the mirror as she passed to make sure Derek couldn't see that he'd got her crying again, she answered the door.

Because her marriage was dissolving, because this was her life, because everything was awful right now, it was Mark.

She sighed, giving him a slight smile. "He couldn't make it, I guess?"

There was something in Mark's eyes she didn't think she'd seen ever since the first day she met him, but she didn't dwell on it. She might have just been seeing things.

"He's in a long procedure…. He's going to sleep in one of the on call rooms, he starts early in the morning…" he let out a seemingly exasperated sigh, "This isn't fair, Addie. How many times are you going to let him get away with this? How many times are you going to let him treat you like this?"

She shook her head at him, suddenly not quite able to meet his eyes. "There's nothing I can say, Mark, he's a busy man…"

"You know as well as I do that's not what it is, Addison! When was the last time he thought of you? When was the last time he was there for you? It's your birthday, for God's sake! Is he ever around anymore?"

She ran a hand loosely through her hair, thinking for a moment about how long she'd spent preparing it, for the night out with her husband that she'd always had a doubt whether it was actually going to happen. And he'd done what he always did, for the last eighteenth months or so, he'd sent Mark.

"What am I supposed to do about it, Mark? He's just… it's like he's not all here anymore… he's not been completely in _this _for a long time…"

The dark flashed behind his eyes again, and there was definitely something there. She bit her lip subconsciously, bringing her eyes back to his. There was something in them that robbed her of breath.

"You deserve better, Addie. You didn't do anything to deserve this. You shouldn't have to put up with it."

And then, completely unexpectedly, his lips fused against hers, pushing her back against the wall. It wasn't like she'd expected it to be, although she hadn't ever really allowed herself to imagine it. His mouth was hot, fiery, and suddenly his hands were everywhere. She couldn't think; she couldn't even catch her breath. And Mark's mouth was travelling down her throat, and the door was slamming closed behind him.

In that moment, surprisingly, she thought of her father. Her father, and all his secretaries, all his nurses, all his lies. Tears smarting in her eyes, she pulled back.

He dropped his eyes, shame crossing his face. "I'm sorry, Addie."

She shook her head, a disbelieving expression sliding over her face. "I… I… what is this, Mark? I can't just be another of the notches on your bedpost… I thought we were friends…"

His eyes still didn't meet hers. "I've… I've… you're not like the others, Addie…. I've wanted to do that since I met you, I've always wished we could have been something… but you were always Derek's girl… I guess I just figured as he isn't treating you right…"

"I think my marriage is over, Mark." She gave a tiny, half-hearted smile and a shrug. "And I didn't know…. _this… _even existed until a minute ago…"

His eyes were dark, again. "I want you, Addie. I'll… I've wanted you for a lot longer than you know…"

"But Derek's your-"

"You don't deserve this, Addie, whatever Derek is to me. You need to walk away from him, he's not going to change… he's not for you anymore."

There was a full silence for a moment, and it briefly occurred to Addison that she was spending seconds deciding what seemed like her whole life, right now.

Mark seemed to reconsider. "I'm sorry. Forget it ever happened."

Suddenly, everything seemed to be falling more into place in Addison's life than it had in years.

"Maybe I don't want to forget."

His eyes flew back up to hers at lightning speed.

She gave a dry laugh, and realised she was still somewhat in his arms. "_This _has crept right up on me, Mark… but if you really want… if you really think we could be something…" she bit her lip, and took a deep breath. "We need to do this right. I need to let Derek know I know we might as well not be married anymore… I need to draw the line under that before I can do anything else… and you need to think about it, Mark. You talk a good game and you make my heart beat faster, you do, but if you had to choose, what's more important, _this _or you and Derek?"

He shook his head at her, a smile touching his lips. "I… I feel more for you than I've ever felt… I don't… I don't look at you like I look at other women, you're… you're Addie."

This was such an alien feeling, but in that moment she started wondering how long she'd felt something for Mark and not realised.

"Go home, Mark. Give me time. This is a big deal, ending a marriage… give me time, and I'll be here…"

"I'll wait."

He pressed his lips to her forehead gently and turned away, briefly considering that he didn't know who this man was, but he certainly didn't seem like Mark Sloan. She changed him.

The divorce was relatively amicable, but it all happened very slowly. And she couldn't admit it to anyone, not even herself; every day that went past she feared that the length of time Mark would wait had ended.

Derek was offered a job in Seattle, and they both decided maybe living in separate cities, at least for a while, was what they needed. So he completely cleared out of the brownstone, telling her she 'might as well keep it, it was predominantly your father's money anyway.'

And then Mark was on the doorstep again, as he had been the night she'd realised her marriage was over, but he wasn't stealing kisses now, he was taking her out to dinner and dancing in her long red dress.

And then he was bringing her home and kissing her just inside the front door of the brownstone, and it suddenly made so much sense.

And then, they were Mark-and-Addison, like they'd never been anything else.

* * *

_As it was, his mouth was hot, fiery, and suddenly his hands were everywhere. She couldn't think, she couldn't even catch her breath, so she __**didn't **__think. Mark's mouth was traveling down her throat, and the door was slamming closed behind him, and everything in her world was shifting._

_It was unbelievably quick, that first time. Clothes were flying everywhere, feelings she hadn't even known she had were lurking below the surface, and she found herself, hardly more than half an hour later, in Marks arms in her bed. Her bed and Derek's bed._

_That was the start of a disastrous affair, that lasted weeks before Derek stumbled in on them, and then for months afterwards._

_Possibly, everything was ruined before it started._

**Again, I would love to know what you think! I've got a very small number of loyal followers, but if you could just take five minutes to tell me what you think, that would be very much appreciated…**


	3. If she'd kept the baby

**IF**

'**If' is a wonderful word. A number of relatively independent pieces regarding the major 'if's in the history of Maddison. Some smutty, some fluffy, some angsty.**

**Limited spoilers for their entire story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

_If she'd kept the baby_

**Sorry it's been so long, guys, I was taking my finals! Hope some of you are still there **

After his shift, Mark rushed home, his heart thudding.

He'd been scared, and he'd done the stupid thing that he'd always done… he'd fallen back on the man-whore. He hadn't even been thinking, until the door to the on-call room had opened, and she'd seen Charlene in his arms. She'd turned away before he could even see her face, but in his mind's eye he could see it. He'd seen it a thousand times, with Derek. Addison, betrayed.

He couldn't believe he'd done this. He'd rarely loathed himself quite this much. He thought she'd changed him – she _had _changed him. He wouldn't have felt this terrible for anyone else. He wouldn't have felt this guilty.

He swallowed as he pulled up at the brownstone. Addison never did anything by halves – he wouldn't put it past her to have changed the locks or something. He walked up the steps, slowly, remembering how their affair had started right where he was standing, remembering how unexpectedly perfect everything had seemed, strangely, after Derek had found them and left town, after they'd started to settle together, as if they'd never done anything wrong, as if they were exactly where they were meant to be. And then she'd been presenting him with a flushed face and a pregnancy test, and he'd gotten scared.

It wasn't an excuse, but it was the only explanation he could come up with. With hindsight, her reveal had been beautiful. _Funny the way the world works, when something's quite possibly hardly yours any longer, it's so much more precious, _Mark mused, testing the doorknob lightly in his hand and stepping in.

He was greeted by Addison in the hallway, a suitcase on the floor, tears having run mascara tear tracks down her cheeks.

She looked at him, stunned, for a moment, and he wasn't sure if it was surprise that he'd dared to come back so quickly, or surprise that he'd come back to her at all.

There was a silence, an impasse, as they both stared at one another, suddenly unable to find all the necessary words.

Then Addison sunk onto the bottom step, her head in her hands.

When she spoke, the voice didn't quite sound like hers.

"Do you know what I did today? I went and sat in a waiting room at an abortion clinic for nearly an hour, Mark.."

"You didn't?" escaped his mouth before he'd had any chance for any kind of speech censorship. She looked up from her hands, her eyes flashing.

She shook her head, angrily. "No. I didn't. But it had nothing to do with you. You need to get out."

He almost knew his words were futile before they left his lips. "Addie, I-"

"I lost my husband for you, Mark. You don't get to do this to me. You need to go." The last four words were laced with venom, he'd never heard anything quite like it come out of her mouth.

"It's my baby too…"

She shook her head again, sudden fatigue in her eyes. "Yeah, and I'm not going to stop you from being its father. But you need to go."

"Addie, I was scared, I-"

He could hear himself, he sounded like a child.

She paused for a moment, because she knew him too well, and it did make sense that he was scared; she'd known him long enough to know that was how he dealt with situations when he was scared.

"I thought we were making things work, Mark. I wanted this to work." And all of a sudden she was crying, and when he hadn't thought he could feel any guiltier…

"It won't happen again, Addie, I'm sorry, you…. Believe me, please…. I'm scared, but I haven't been this happy… hell, _ever, _I think…"

He sounded like a gambler, begging for the last dollars for his last bet, desperate.

She considered for a long moment, but her face began to soften. "You still need to move out, Mark. I need some time, I need some space. Give me that, and I'll, you and me, we…"

Hope flooded through him. "You'll give me another shot? I won't ruin it again, I-"

Her eyes were still steel, but they seemed less on fire, they seemed somehow more malleable. "I need time. I need space. We… I think this has all happened too quickly." She ran a hand loosely through her hair, sighing. "I don't know anymore, Mark. I can't think about this right now. I need you to leave. Give me a few days, and then I'll pick up when you call…"

Her shaky, hollow promise fell slightly flat, but he knew he'd sacrificed the right to ask for anything else. He backed out of the door in a slightly awed silence, almost as if he was waiting for this to all fade away.

* * *

The first time he rang her, she was particularly hormonal and had shouted and screamed at him down the phone for the best part of an hour. He'd taken every blow like a fatal one, but he'd had the self-criticism not to argue. He'd listened until she had no more words to shout at him, and the conversation had stopped short, probably due to utter exhaustion.

They'd shakily become _friends _again in the last month of her pregnancy, and Ella had been born to two parents that while they hadn't been the same as they'd once been, had been somewhat of a united front.

What followed were a few years of both of them being unable to keep a relationship with someone else for more than a few dates, a few years of disastrous but somewhat emotionless break-ups, and juggling a beautiful little girl with red curls and her father's eyes.

It wasn't until he dropped his three-year-old daughter back at her mother's after a weekend with Daddy that he'd finally had the guts to ask her out again.

To his surprise, she'd said yes.

* * *

_As it was, Mark rushed home after his shift, his heart thudding, but by the time he got there, she'd already made it to the airport, she was already gone, her things all packed up and removed from the brownstone, as it turned out, forever._

_He drank a lot that night. He'd been scared, and he'd royally ruined everything, everything that had so perfectly slipped into place these last few weeks. She'd gone._

_Back to Derek._

**Hope you enjoyed! I'd love to hear what you think!**


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